Moor, they will then “spurn me down” ( 1. 4. 593 – 94 ). In addition, the dying
King Philip receives Eleazar as “Don Alvero’sson,” commending him to the
court as “a man / Both wise and warlike ( 1. 3 .387, 391).” If father supplants
daughter here as Eleazar’s ennobling link to Spain, the interracial marriage
nonetheless provides the vehicle. Although the king cautions the court to “be-
ware of him, / Ambition wings his spirit, keep him down; / What wil not men
attempt to win a crown” ( 1. 3. 392 – 94 ), the caution suggests how far Eleazar
might go not only againstSpain but more so withinit.
Though it is unclear whether Eleazar’s display of his marital bond predi-
cates or is predicated on Spain’s endorsement of intermarriage, he uses the
domestic connection to stage his own radical rise to power and ultimately to
change the terms of Spanishness. Unlike Aaron, who asserts control illicitly
behind the scenes—even if in the proximity and with the authority—of the
court, with no hope of claiming the rule, Eleazar uses his legitimacy as a Span-
ish husband to openly challenge (and kill) a sitting monarch. After the Span-
ish queen “discovers” and kills Maria for poisoning the Spanish king, it turns
out (as the queen knows) that Fernando is not dead. Eleazar seizes the
occasion for his own play-within-the-play and stabs Fernando in front of a
watching court, confidently condemning “the unchast blood of that lecher
King, / That threw my wife in untimely grave” ( 3. 4. 1746 – 47 ). Extrapolating a
policy and politics from those particulars and insisting that revenge is due, he
explains: “Were he ten thousand Kings that slew my love, / Thus shou’d my
hand (plum’d with revenges wings) / Requite mine own dishonour, and her
death” ( 3. 4. 1734 – 39 ). One of the onlooking nobles (Roderigo) does “crie trea-
son,” damning “this black feind” for his actions, but Eleazar holds his ground
( 3. 4. 1755 – 56 ). Not only does he seize the castle with his own armed “slaves”
( 3. 4. 1772 ); he continues to argue the legitimacy of his cause, putting the
claims of marital dishonor above the alleged crime of treason. “The King is
murdred,” he argues, “and I’le answer it; / I am dishonour’d, and I will revenge
it” ( 3. 4 .1762–63). Eleazar, of course, distorts and manipulates the facts, accus-
ing the lascivious king of actions authored (with his own assistance) by the
lascivious queen. Yet what is especially striking here is how astoundingly ef-
fective his domestic cover is—so effective that, in front of friend and foe, the
dishonored husband can announce his intentions to acquire “A Kingdom,
Castiles crown” ( 3. 4. 1815 ).
A kingdom, Castile’s crown? Far outdoing Thomas Stukeley, the man
who would be, but could never be, king, the Moor imagines that he could be
king, even within a kingdom which has already ordered his expulsion. And
130 chapter five